Jamie Hart's reputation is not much. Reputation might not even be the right word to describe it.
She's the daughter of renowned CEO Mr. Hart.
And that's just about it.
But then a man steps into her life. For the better or for worse?
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Jamie heaved the large bag over her shoulder and begrudgingly trudged down the steps of her father's estate.
Let's get one thing straight. It was her fathers house. Not hers. She has never, nor will she ever, consider that place to be home.
"Morning Mr. Sullivan." She greeted routinely.
Jamie had begged her father to let her walk to work but her nagging was hopeless. He had hired Mr. Sullivan late last summer, insisting that she be under the watchful eye of someone at all times.
Not a morning went by without her driver being there in the gateway at 8 o'clock sharp. Everyday, with his pinstriped button-down and a seemingly endless array of bow ties.
So you could imagine Jamie's surprise when she glanced in the rear view mirror from the backseat. In place of a signature bow tie was a bland black tie. And in place of Mr. Sullivan, was, well, someone who was most definitely much younger than the petite middle aged driver.
Pale grey eyes watched her coldly from the mirror before averting back to the phone in his hands.
What beautiful hands. She thought.
Strong, masculine, and good lord imagine how they would feel touch—
Wait.
What?
Shaking her head softly, Jamie leaned forward resting her elbows on the front seats.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Jamie." She said, hoping to start a conversation with the new mystery man. But the only response she received was silence along with the slight tapping sound of his thumbs on the screen.
"May I know your name? I was expecting Mr. Sullivan to be here today."
Her elbow brushed his shoulder lightly as he shifted in his seat to face her.
"My name is not something you need to know. And yes, I'm well aware that your name is Jamie."
"Oh." She said softly, feeling her cheeks flame a little at his remark.
1 point angry chauffer - 0 points Jamie
"And," he continued, "Mr. Sullivan has been relieved from his job."
"Oh."
Jamie still didn't know what to say so she leaned back and buckled in.
The black Mercedes revved to life as he began the short drive to Hart Enterprises. The silence was unbearable but she took the time to study mystery driver's features in the mirror.
His gaze was locked on the road and his glaring expression told her he had no wish to engage in conversation. But Jamie couldn't help but get lost in his eyes; the way his brows furrowed slightly, and the light splatter of freckles that dusted over his nose. His left eye had flecks of gold that shimmered when they caught in the light.
The sun's rays reflected off his face in all the right places. Accentuating the blatant fact that his face was carved and chiseled by Picasso himself.
And she was sure the same went for his body. The way the crinkles of his suit stretched over his broad shoulders left Jamie's imagination running wild.
His dark brown hair stopped at the nape of his neck and she could just barely see what looked to be a price tag poking out from the collar of his suit.
Chuckling, she straightened from her slouched position and mustered up her courage, "Excuse me Mr. —um— sir. The tag is still on your suit."
And once again. Silence.
This is going just fantastic! What a charming fellow he is.
The car pulled into her office's parking lot and came to a sudden stop in the reserved stall marked 'Ms. Jamie Hart'.
"Well goodbye then, it was nice meeting you. I guess."
Sighing in defeat, Jamie cracked the door open and gathered her things hoping the man would at least offer some form of goodbye.
Stepping out into the crisp winter air, she began closing the door just as she saw him reach toward the back of his neck, feeling for something.
